Heading Back
by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: At the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville realises that there's just one more thing he needs to put right and he has an idea how to do it. Someone is watching him – as she always does – and she decides to time travel with him. Various het & slash pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes:** Written for the lj hpchallengefest. Thanks to velvetmouse for the prompt: "Neville/Hannah - timeturner accident that sends them in opposite directions (one to the past, one to the future) and they must figure out how to get back to the present."

Thanks to celestineangel for having the brilliant idea of hpchallengefest and then getting on and organising it.

Thanks for the beta to tjs_whatnot. I'm so grateful for your enthusiasm and help.

I envisage this story opening on that shot from the DH2 movie where Neville and Luna are sitting together after the battle.

**Warnings:** Nothing explicit, but pairings include het and slash, canon and not, with partners kissing and touching, references to canon character deaths.

**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling and nobody has ever mistaken me for her. I am merely playing with the world and the people that she has created.

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Heading Back

1. After the Battle.

The dried blood was cracking on his skin and his muscles ached; he hadn't noticed while the battle had raged. It was over now, though. Voldemort was dead. Neville had something he wanted to say to Luna. He eased himself down to sit on the step next to her. They both stared ahead in companionable, exhausted silence for a couple of minutes. He should tell her now. It wasn't like he'd used up his entire store of courage in decapitating Nagini.

Suddenly Luna spoke and what she said was unexpected: "I wish my mother was here."

Neville clenched. Every nerve in him chilled. His love for his parents doused every other love and hate in him. It was an unrequited love and it had been for as long as he could remember. Neither of them had any idea of who he was. What did it matter if Voldemort was dead, if Bellatrix LeStrange was dead? The horror might have ended for some, but for him the greatest nightmare would always remain. This was a time for righting wrongs, but his own tragedy could never be corrected. He couldn't turn back time.

Yes he could. His year as Resistance Leader had seen him in all sorts of strange nooks of the castle. He knew the place better than anyone and he remembered a small room he had passed once. He had noted it then, thinking that it might come in useful in the future. That time had come. He rose. Luna didn't notice.

However, from her seat in a dark, damaged section of the Hall, Hannah Abbott did. She was sitting in a silent row of Hufflepuffs: all shocked at the situation and stunned at themselves and the courage they had somehow dredged up to fight the battle they had just helped to win. Ernie looked round as she stood; she smiled at him and he said nothing. She followed Neville out of the Hall, along a back corridor and up narrow stone stairs.

They just missed passing the Golden Trio as they made their weary way back into the castle. Ron supported Hermione with an arm round her shoulders and she leaned her head on his shoulder. They stopped and stood still for a moment, surveying the grieving and the devastation.

Ginny spotted them and ran towards them, away from the rest of the Weasleys who were gathered about Fred's corpse. When he saw her, Harry looked up; his shoulders slumped. She caught him just before he fell and he clasped her tight, laying his head on her shoulder and finally relaxing.

Ron and Hermione backed away to give them space. Hermione looked up into Ron's face.

"It's over," she said.

Ron looked over to the place where his family were gathered together. He swallowed. Hermione followed his gaze.

"Shall we go over there?" she asked.

Ron shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "It's been a long day... I'm not... I can't..." He took a deep breath. "Not yet."

"You were brilliant," she said.

"So were you."

"I know, I know, but I don't just mean in the ways I'm used to you being brilliant."

He looked into her face and grinned. "You never mentioned me being brilliant before."

"That's because you're also a complete arse." She smiled shyly. "Go on, say something in Parseltongue again."

"You think all that hissing's sexy?"

"Not per se. But it's clever and clever is – you know – very attractive."

"Say 'sexy' and I'll think about it."

"Ron!" She slapped him on the arm.

"Tell me I'm sexy. Do you think I'm sexy?"

"You say it first!"

"I'm sexy." He chuckled. Then he put on his most serious face. "You are really fucking sexy, Hermione Granger. Kiss me again."

She blushed like a Weasley to the roots of her hair and looked down at her feet. "Ron!" she said breathlessly. "All these people."

"They don't care."

"Well I do." She sat down abruptly on a pile of rubble and looked up. "Oh!"

"What?"

Hermione pointed over Ron's head at the wall. He stopped looking at her to turn round.

"Where that stone's been blasted out, there's a piece of parchment. Look. Do you see it sticking out?"

He did. He reached easily with his long arm and pulled it out. It was rolled into a tight tube. He sat down next to his girlfriend (that word made him smile to himself) and let her unroll it.

_To Ron. _

_Help! I'm in February 1978. I followed Neville but I can't find him. I can't get the Time Turner to take me back again. Get Hermione to explain it all to you then come and get me. There's a cupboard full of Time Turners halfway up the little staircase behind Advanced Charms. Thanks from, _

_Hannah Abbott._

Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

"Why is it addressed to you?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"That's your first question? You read this note and that's the first thing you ask?"

"Well?"

"I don't know! I don't understand anything about it." Ron paused. "I suppose we'd better go and find that Time Turner cupboard."

"Now?"

"Well, yes. It looks like a bit of an emergency, don't you think?"

"There's no hurry. Whatever time you leave here – even if it's next week or next year – you'll arrive there at the same time."

Ron's brow furrowed as he considered that. "I suppose so."

"You should go and see your mother first."

Ron looked over to his family again and a knot of dread twisted his stomach. He swallowed.

"You know what, Hermione, I could do with some time to get used to Fred's– to everything myself before I do that." He looked at the note. "And it doesn't matter what time I go, I'll come back now and she'll never know – Oh!" He looked over to the doorway of the Hall where a very familiar figure had just walked in. Ron squeezed Hermione's hand as he watched himself turn towards them and give a little wave, before squaring his shoulders and facing the direction of the huddled group made by his family. The Ron in the distance took a deep breath and walked over to his mother.

"I think you'd better go," Hermione said. "I don't think you should both be in the same room at the same time. Paradoxes." She stood up and pulled on his hand. "Be quick about it, because I've got a lot to explain to you about Time Turners and I want to get back here quickly so I can support you over there." She jerked her head at the other Ron, the one consoling his mother.

Ron gave himself an appraising glance as they left the Hall. "I don't know how you can deny that that's sexy," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling and nobody has ever mistaken me for her. I am merely playing with the world and the people that she has created.

2. The Time Turner

In the cupboard half-way up the stairs behind the Advanced Charms classroom, Neville was picking up a Time Turner. He knew how these worked in theory. He was nervous, but he ignored his nerves. He wasn't the pathetic little boy he'd been as a First Year. Just because this was tricky and Magical, didn't mean that he wasn't going to get it right. He had achieved a lot this year – culminating in beheading that snake – he needed to have more self-belief. He put the chain round his neck and looked down at the top of the hourglass. There were formulae carved into the wood surround and he took a moment to understand them. It looked pretty straightforward. He calculated how far back in time he wanted to go and then he began turning and counting.

He emerged into a narrow, stone staircase which could have been the one he had come from, except that the air was clean. There were no smells of smoke or blood or stone dust. Tucking the Time Turner out of sight into his shirt, he walked down and found himself in a clean, bright hallway full of students in their uniform robes. They were chatting happily amongst themselves. This was his school as it had been before the Battle. Not quite – there were the receptacles for collecting House Points with almost equal amounts of gems in each. The walls were free of decrees. The children were smiling. It was how it had been before the Carrows took over, before Snape became Headmaster, before Dumbledore's death. If he had got things right, though, it was now a long time before his schooldays. He hadn't even been born yet.

He needed to find his parents. He was going to tell them how things had been for him as a child, he would warn them about what Bellatrix Lestrange was going to do to them and then they would be able to avoid her. It was only that one small thing which he was going to change. It couldn't make too much difference, could it?

The happy students looked at him oddly as he went up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. He took a look down at himself and realised how unkempt he looked. They were clean and their clothes were neat, their hair brushed; he had snake blood drying on him.

Never mind. His parents might take him more seriously if he looked like he'd been in a battle. He scanned for the faces of his parents which he remembered from photographs, on the pupils who streamed past him on their way down to a meal. Judging by the grey light coming through the windows it was probably breakfast. He wondered how early his parents had risen when they had been teenagers. Perhaps they were already seated at the Gryffindor table tucking into their toast.

A group of boys was coming towards him. They wore Gryffindor robes and one looked very familiar: he looked like a taller version of Harry. It must be Harry's father. His heart skipped excitedly. What had he been called? James. It was Harry's middle name of course. So, this was James Potter. Neville decided to ask him if he knew where Frank or Alice Longbottom were. Not Alice Longbottom, she wasn't married to his father yet.

"Excuse me," Neville said politely, looking into the face which was just like Harry's except that there was no lightning-bolt scar and the eyes were not that intense green. "Excuse me, James Potter?"

The boy looked startled. He looked at Neville and fear crept over his features. His three friends took up protective stances.

"I'm not dangerous, I promise. I am sorry that I'm in such a state just now," Neville said. "You are James Potter?"

"No," the boy said. "That's my brother."

l8l

Hannah had watched Neville using the Time Turner and then quietly disappearing. He had been so intent on what he was doing that he hadn't noticed her standing at the curve of the stairs; but then he hardly ever did notice her. She took a deep breath. She could just wait and surely he would come back to this place and time in a moment. He would return to the point at which he had started out, wouldn't he? She had counted the number of turns. She could follow him. Why would she do that? Because for the last six months following Neville around had been what she did.

She climbed into the cupboard and examined one of the turners. She carefully positioned it the right way round and then she copied what Neville had done. She concentrated on the numbers to block out the nerves over where she was going, what she would find, and why Neville had decided to be there (or then, rather, she thought). When the numbers ran out she felt a strange pull which was nothing like Apparition and the door closed itself.

She took a deep breath. The door hadn't closed of course, it was just that she was in the same place at a time when the cupboard was shut. She hoped it wasn't locked. "Neville?" she asked tentatively. She didn't know how he was going to feel about her following him. There was no reply. He must have left the cupboard and shut the door behind him. Very sensible.

She ran a hand through her hair and straightened her robes by wand-light. She would get a better reaction from the students of this time (whenever it was) if she didn't look as though she had just been in a battle. She cast a few charms for cleanliness and smartness, too. It wouldn't hurt to look her best in front of Neville, either.

She pressed her ear to the door before opening it. It was a habit she had got into under the Carrows. All she heard was a distant murmur of voices. Carefully she stepped out onto the empty narrow staircase.

When she got down to the Entrance Hall, she found a steady stream of students going into the Great Hall. It was probably about supper time now. She stood back and scanned them for Neville but she couldn't see him. She wondered what year she was in but the timeless uniform robes gave nothing away.

Some of the boys had long hair, and a couple of the older ones had sideburns. Others had their hair slightly back-combed. There were a lot of fringes and flicks on the girls' hair. She only had a vague idea of Muggle fashions and knew that the Wizarding World often (but not always) lagged behind those. Some of the girls looked like they were trying to ape that old TV program about somebody's Angels (same name as one of the older Weasley brothers but she couldn't recall which one just now). Perhaps it was the future, though, and they were having some fashion revival.

She looked for Neville still but she was also looking for familiar faces now, ones she'd seen in newspapers and for similarities to people she knew. It gave her a strange jolt when she saw Harry coming down the stairs. No, not Harry, he was too tall and there was no scar. Looking at his companions she recognised a young Professor Lupin (or perhaps it was his son, the baby he'd left to come fight and die). One of the boys was tall, slim, dark-haired and devastatingly handsome. Not her type at all but she couldn't help reacting. They all looked to be about the same age as she was or maybe a little younger. When the handsome one laughed it looked enough like the snarl in the poster she'd seen so often a few years ago that she realised he was Sirius Black.

Now she knew when this was. Neville must have come looking for his parents. That was, therefore, what she had to do in order to find him. She swallowed and gathered up her courage. She would ask Sirius Black and his friends. She stepped forwards. The yellow on her robe caught her eye. They might take more kindly to a fellow Gryffindor. She slipped into the shadows again to charm on red and gold instead.

The four boys had gone into the Hall by the time she'd finished. She followed them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling and nobody has ever mistaken me for her. I am merely playing with the world and the people that she has created.

Thank you so much to everyone for your lovely comments, alert requests etc. I hope you enjoy this new chapter, too!

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3. The Greenhouse

Hermione was a bit of an expert on Time Turners. She had relied on one for a year and of course she had studied them for fun while she was doing that. Ron tried to listen to every snippet of information with which she regaled him, but the bits he was really interested in were how to get to February 1978 and how to get back again.

The Marauders, the ones who'd made the Map, they would have been at school then. His own parents would have been long gone and raising babies. He tried to work out whether his heroic dead uncles, Gideon and Fabian, might be where (or was it when?) he was going. He thought they'd be too old.

Hermione had finally worked out that he wasn't listening anymore. She made him repeat back to her the most important of her instructions. They had got to the cupboard and through the open door he saw all the big egg-timer things on their shelves.

"Looks like I'm off."

"Yes, you'd better hurry," Hermione said.

"Not really, whatever time I leave here I'll get there at the same time, and we already know what time I get back here 'cos we've seen me." Ron looked at the empty staircase and it looked ideal to him, so he asked, "What about a kiss for luck?"

"Honestly! Is that all you think about? You don't know what you're going to walk into. It wouldn't be a good idea for you to arrive in 1978 feeling, um, distracted."

"Why don't you ever spend any time thinking about it?" Ron grumbled. "Don't you think I'm sexy at all?"

"Not now, Ronald. Get on with it." She pushed him into the cupboard.

l8l

Neville had worked it out by now. He had turned time in the wrong direction. He was a fool, just as Snape had always told him he was. He would have to go back and start again. He should probably have a bath before he set off to meet his parents, too, judging by the reactions he was getting from the students of the future.

He hurried away from them all and out of the castle. When he was confident that nobody could see him, he pulled out the Time Turner and prepared to spin it back. His fingers met resistance. It was stuck. He pushed at it a little harder. He tried moving it in the opposite direction. Nothing.

He'd broken it. He was stuck here. He was an idiot.

He sat down on the hard, cracked ground. It had clearly been a pretty dry spring this year. His tired mind wandered. Someone had planted flower beds which hadn't been there in his time. They were lovely: just what he would have planted himself. He wandered over to inspect them. There wasn't anything useful he could do after all, he might as well sniff Kelpie-Roses. Someone had altered their scent. He had always thought that Kelpie-Roses were beautiful but they smelled too mild. One of his daydreams had been to work out a charm to enhance it, and clearly that was exactly what somebody had done.

Without thinking, he let his legs move of their own accord around the grounds until he found himself at the place where he always went when anything at school depressed him.

He opened the greenhouse door and stepped in. There was a man standing where Professor Sprout should have been. He was repotting dwarf foxgloves. Neville tried to remember where he'd seen him before.

The man turned round at the sound of the door closing.

"Ah," he said. "So, it's today. I wondered when I'd get here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling and nobody has ever mistaken me for her. I am merely playing with the world and the people that she has created.

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4. The Marauders

"What's the plan?"

Hannah was just about to step into the hall when she heard the voice in her ear. She looked quickly. "What in Merlin are you doing here?"

"You summoned me," Ron Weasley replied with a look. "You left a note."

"I did?"

"You will do, then, I guess. Tricky stuff time travel, isn't it? Anyway, I know how to get back."

"Get back?"

"Using the Time Turner."

"Can't I just spin it back in the opposite direction?"

Ron sucked his teeth. "Oh dear. Oh dear me. It's a good thing I'm here. It just so happens that I'm a bit of an expert at Time Turners."

"Really? You've studied them?" It sounded unlikely.

"No, Hermione has, which comes to the same thing." A thought struck him. Hannah could see its progress on his face. "Hannah?" he asked. "Do you think I'm sexy?"

"Ron!"

"Sorry. Shall we go back then?"

"I need to find Neville."

"You can't. That's what your note said."

"Note?"

He pulled it from his pocket to show her.

Hannah frowned as she read the strange parchment which was discoloured by age but clearly in her own handwriting. "Neville won't know how to get back either, will he?" she said eventually. "We still need to find him."

"Ok. Suits me. I don't mind hanging round here – I mean now – for a while. So what's the plan, then?"

Hannah pointed round the doorway into the Great Hall. "I was going to talk to them," she said.

Ron followed her finger. "Is that Harry's dad?"

"Must be. He looks just like him, doesn't he?"

"So those are the Marauders."

"The what?"

"Never mind. That must be Sirius, he's the right height. He doesn't look like he did when I knew him at all. Azkaban really did destroy him."

"You knew Sirius Black? How?"

"Tell you later."

"I think he looks quite, um..." Hannah blushed.

Ron chuckled. "Yeah. Very good-looking. Handsome, I suppose. You want me to do the talking?"

"I'll be fine. He's not my type at all, actually."

Ron looked at Hannah then, trying to work things out. "Go on, then, tell me the secret. Who is your type?"

Hannah just blushed again. "I think we should get on with it. Professor Lupin looks quite similar to when he was teaching us – just a younger version, don't you think?"

"Why are you chasing after Nev?"

"Never you mind," Hannah muttered. "Can you work out which ones are his parents? I can't. That's who he's come here to find. Frank and Alice, but I don't even know what her surname would be."

Ron took his gaze from her face. He looked smug, though, as though he'd had his answer without her giving it. "None of the kids on the Gryffindor table look like Neville, do they? Not really."

"I thought that if I asked that lot where Frank Longbottom was, then we might find Neville with him."

"Worth a try. Hang on, Hufflepuff, you're wearing Gryffindor robes!"

"You're not. You should be." She pushed him back against the wall behind a suit of armour and transfigured his clothes.

As they were walking back towards the entrance to the Great Hall they heard a wave of laughter and rushed to the doorway. The boy who looked like a tall Harry was standing facing a petite redheaded girl. Something viscous and yellow dripped from his hair and everyone in the room seemed to be laughing at him. She looked furious, but then so did he. He was biting it back, attempting to salvage some dignity.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then, Evans," he said in voice which only wobbled slightly.

"I don't suppose you will," she snapped back, "you haven't managed to take any of my other refusals at face value."

The smell had reached them now; it was the stench of bad eggs. Harry's dad walked carefully back to his place at the table, where his friends were laughing as hard as everyone else in the room. The young woman who must have been destined to become Harry's mum stormed out of the Hall past Ron and Hannah.

They walked into the Great Hall as Remus Lupin cleaned up his friend with a few spells and then cleared the egg stench. Suddenly the Hall smelled just the same as it always had done for the first few years of their schooling. The post-battle Great Hall they had just left smelled completely different: smoke and blood.

Nobody took much notice of them until they stopped by the Gryffindor table and Hannah said nervously, "Um, excuse me."

The boys looked up. Sirius flashed them a dazzling smile and for a moment neither Hannah nor Ron could speak. It didn't escape Hannah's noticed that Ron was just as affected by Sirius' good looks as she was.

"Um, do you know where Frank Longbottom is, please?" she managed eventually.

"You don't want to waste your time with Frank, my dear. He's as dull as ditch-water. Why don't you come and sit here beside me?" Sirius shoved a chubby blond boy up the bench and then patted the space beside him. "You can explain to me why I've never noticed such a delectable little filly as you around the school before."

"I need to find Frank," she insisted.

"That's me," said a young man on the opposite side of the table.

She hadn't noticed him before and now that she did, her first impression was that he looked nothing like his son. As she looked closer, though, she could see it. There was something familiar about the arrangement of his features. In fact, that was the very same nose. She became aware that she was staring and also that he was staring right back at her.

l8l

Ron couldn't stop staring either, but it was James Potter he was transfixed by. On the surface, he looked exactly like Harry. Ron had got used to adults telling Harry that he looked just like his father but with his mother's eyes, but it was completely different to see it in the flesh.

The scar was missing as well as the green eyes. In fact, the more Ron stared, the more superficial the similarities seemed. This boy was light-hearted and carefree, which Harry had never been allowed to be. He had got over his earlier anger in a heartbeat. There was amusement in his eyes – a twinkle like Fred's had been a few hours ago. That twisted Ron's belly, and that was when he noticed that James Potter was looking back at him equally intently.

Hannah moved round the table to talk to Neville's dad, even though Neville clearly wasn't with him. Most of the Gryffindors were watching her as James leaned towards Ron and whispered, "Sit down?"

Mesmerised, Ron sat beside the man wearing Harry's messy black hair and Fred's glint.

"You want to watch out," said the chubby blond boy, "James has got a thing for gingers."

"Shut up Peter."

Peter? Mid-sit Ron turned his attention to the boy sitting next to Sirius. Peter Pettigrew the traitor? He looked at his eyes and tried to see something of Scabbers in him.

"Not again," Sirius said, tearing his attention away from Hannah. "Evans is never going to take you seriously if you keep consoling yourself that way every time she knocks you back."

"I don't care!" James announced. "I've given up on her! I was perfectly polite this time. You all heard me. That's it, I'm not interested anymore."

His friends made disbelieving noises.

"She refuses to take me seriously. I've had it. I give up on women, they're too complicated and it's not worth it."

"Perhaps the reason she doesn't take you seriously is because every time she turns you down, you have a fling with a pretty boy," Sirius observed.

Ron looked back at James. Really? Well, that was one thing he certainly wouldn't be mentioning to Harry when he got back. It wasn't something he would want to know about his own father.

James was looking back at him. It was a strange look.

"No more girls. I told you. I don't care whether any of them take me seriously or not. I'm not interested in girls any more."

Ron felt a hand on his thigh. He was about to push it off and move away when James asked, "So, you sexy thing, why haven't I seen you around here before?"

Sexy? Really? Ron paused. He looked into James' deep blue eyes and he thought that what he could see might be desire and he knew he'd never seen that before. It was what he had been waiting for.


	5. Chapter 5

5. The Future

"What?" Neville asked stupidly.

The man who looked like him laughed in a kindly way. "I remember, you see. Because I was you and I was there."

"Right."

"I know what you're trying to do. Obviously. It was me who was trying to do it after all. You are – I was – very tired. It's been a difficult year to say the least, hasn't it? And the Battle. Look at me, fresh from my heroic battle." He chuckled. "You can't undertake something complex like this without knowing a lot more about Time Travel than you do now."

"Do you know about it? I mean, do I know now? Will I know?"

"I know what you mean. It's complicated, isn't it?" he smiled. "There's a lot more to it than grammar, as well. Yes. I have studied Timelines for years. I understand now. You will understand."

"The Time Turner's stuck."

"It's not. There are charms and patterns connected to the journey back. It's a safeguard to make sure you get back to exactly two minutes after you left. You need to return to the starting point so that you can see the effects of any changes you've made without running into yourself."

Neville looked curiously at his future self. "Haven't I just run into myself?"

The man smiled. "Yes, it's very naughty. However, I remember this conversation, so it's embedded on the timeline already."

"You're going to show me how to get back to just after the death of He Who Must Not Be Named?" Neville asked.

"In a minute."

"And then how to go back and warn my – our – parents?"

"No."

Neville scowled at his future self. "Why not?"

"You'll understand. One day."

Neville looked around him. "What am I doing in the greenhouse? Where's Professor Sprout?"

"She retired years ago."

"Yes. Of course."

"You're not stupid. You're tired and overwrought. Stop thinking of yourself as stupid. That's the first thing I have to tell you." He smiled. "I'm here because I'm the Herbology Professor. That's what you're going to be, it's what you need to work towards."

"What about everyone else, what are they doing now? Luna? Is she –?"

"There's a limit to how much it would be sensible for me to tell you. I will say, though, that you need to forget about Luna." He shook his head. "That wasn't ever going to work out."

Neville felt his own face falling. The tiredness swept through him. For the first time, he was aware of it. He felt the years of work ahead of him to achieve what the man in front of him had done and it exhausted him.

"When you get back you need to sleep."

"And have a bath," Neville said.

"Yes. And find Hannah."

"Hannah?"

"Hannah Abbott. She's been watching over you for months."

"Hannah Abbott?" Neville asked his future self stupidly. He knew he had to stop thinking of himself as stupid. He really didn't understand though. "Why?"

"She loves you. She still loves me. We're married, Neville, and she's the most wonderful thing in my life. I didn't understand when I was you. I could have missed out on so much happiness. Trust me, you need her. I'll send you home. She'll find you."

"Then what?"

"You'll know when you're there. Now, let's get you back to your own time. You have a great couple of decades in front of you. Enjoy. Believe in yourself and you'll end up being me. I'm very happy, I promise you."


	6. Chapter 6

**I am not JK Rowling. These characters and settings all belong to her.**

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6. The Past

Ron was very happy. Hannah was clearly anxious, but she wasn't about to let Frank out of her sight. They found themselves in the Gryffindor Common Room after supper, close to the fire with the group they had befriended, who turned out to be currently Sixth Years. Ron sat squashed into an armchair with James Potter. James couldn't keep his hands off Ron and it was intoxicating.

Every so often Ron would remember that this was Harry's dad and that should have felt weird, but somehow it didn't. James looked like Harry, of course he did, and Ron found himself wondering why he'd never felt attracted to Harry. He hadn't, he didn't. It couldn't be because Harry was his best friend that he didn't think of him that way, because Hermione was his other best friend and he did fancy her. He had fancied her for ages. Even the thought of Hermione couldn't stop him from enjoying James' attention, though. After all, he reasoned, it couldn't be cheating if Hermione hadn't been born yet, could it? James found him sexy and Hermione had never told him whether she did.

James' arm was round Ron's waist and his other hand was between his thighs – the fingers

wriggling and poking and caressing. He divided his time between nuzzling Ron's neck and joking with his friends. Oh and those boys were funny! Even Peter Pettigrew, though he struggled to keep up with the quick wit of the other boys. He reminded Ron of Neville a little bit. But Neville hadn't given up on him and Harry and Hermione. Instead he'd taken over from them when they'd gone away. He had risen to all challenges, Peter had sunk when he had been tested. Ron was pulled from his thoughts by James' tongue on his earlobe.

"Have you seen anyone else new?" Hannah was asking Frank Longbottom. "I'm looking for a boy."

"I thought you were looking for me?" he answered. "Nobody ever asks for me. Unless it's got something to do with Quidditch or Defence homework."

"I was looking for you. And I've found you."

"Yes you have. Sirius was interested in you and you ignored him, because you wanted me. Pretty girls just don't do that. I like it."

James' hair was soft and the firelight made it shine blue in places. Ron ran a finger through it, unable to remember why he shouldn't. Lupin's humour was dry which was something he'd hidden from his students as a teacher. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron could see Frank edging towards Hannah on the small sofa they were sharing. She edged back from him.

"Do you know where Alice is, she might have seen someone?" Hannah asked, clearly flustered.

"Who's Alice?" Frank asked.

It didn't look like they were going to be getting back to their own time very soon, then, and Ron couldn't think of any way he could help Hannah, so he might as well enjoy himself. He dropped his hand onto James' shoulder and let it slink to the back of the other boy's neck.

l8l

Ron clearly wasn't going to be any help, Hannah realised. She had thought that he was besotted with Hermione. Things could change, then. It was a comfort, really. If Ron could snuggle up with James and forget about Hermione, then maybe she would one day make Neville forget about that Luna Lovegood. Maybe. If she ever found him again.

She wasn't getting anywhere with Neville's father and she wasn't about to let him get anywhere with her, either. He didn't even know Neville's mother yet. She had to be here somewhere, though. She had been a Gryffindor, hasn't she? Hannah tried out some mental arithmetic as she inched away from Frank's approaching shoulder. How young could Alice conceivably be now if she was going to give birth to Neville in – um – how many years time? Frank was gazing into her eyes. She couldn't possibly concentrate, not with the nose of the man she loved so close to her own (even if it was on the wrong face).

She stood up suddenly. "I'm going for a look around the school!" she announced.

"I'll show you," Frank volunteered swiftly.

Hannah looked beseechingly at Ron.

"You'll be fine, won't you?" he asked lazily.

"No." She thought quickly. "We need to, um, leave a note, don't we?"

"I thought I'd given it to you."

"Yes, but I don't know where it goes – you know – where it was!"

The students of the past looked at her quizzically, apart from Harry's dad who was just looking resentful.

Ron sighed. "Fine," he said.

James made a big show of wrestling him down and refusing to let him get up.

"I'll be back as quickly as I can," Ron promised.

"It'll be bed-time, soon," Peter pointed out.

James' eyes lit up. "Have you got anywhere to sleep?"

"We'll work something out," Hannah said cheerfully, hoping that they would be long gone by then.

"We can work it out when I get back," Ron said meaningfully, looking right into James' eyes.

James smirked and let him go. Frank frowned at James for that. Then Ron and Frank followed Hannah across the Common Room and through the portrait hole.

The short red-head girl – Harry's mother – was standing on the stairs, having an animated discussion with another girl. Hannah stopped to look for Neville's features in the other girl's face. That was a mistake.

Harry's mum moved quickly and before Hannah had had time to react Ron was pinned against the wall with a wand in his face.

"What in Circe's foundation garments do you think you're up to?"

"What?" Ron squeaked.

"With Potter? What are you playing at?" The young woman James had called Evans earlier hissed into Ron's face.

"I thought you weren't interested," he replied.

Hannah didn't think she would have been able to form a sentence with that much fury in her face.

"He's got a point, Lily," said her friend (who didn't look anything like Neville after all).

Lily stepped back. "I'm not interested. Why would I care?" She took a deep breath. "It's just a bit – well – a bit much – to watch him crawling all over you only a few minutes after he declared his undying whatever to me. Again. In front of everyone."

"I'll take him off your hands for you, if you like. You won't have to put up with his undying whatever again," Ron said boldly.

"Ron!" Hannah hissed in disapproval. Did he want his best friend never to be born? Was he really that lust-addled?

Ron winked at her.

Lily was looking furious and confused at the same time. Hannah feared that Ron might be about to receive the rotten-eggs-on-the-head hex and she didn't know how to counter that one.

"I'll manage without your help," Lily spat eventually. Her friend chuckled and Lily's ire was redirected at her long enough for Hannah to grab the two lads and drag them down the stairs.

Hannah glared at Ron. "What was that about?"

"I think she might finally be getting interested in James, don't you?" Ron asked.

"You're making her jealous? You think that'll work?" Hannah asked.

"Why would you –?" Frank looked with confusion from one to the other of them.

Hannah decided to drop it as she couldn't very well explain. "Very risky," she muttered at Ron. "Now, where are we going?"

"For the note? Great Hall."

Well, it was as good a place as any to begin the hunt for Alice, Hannah supposed. She wondered whether she ought to write a new note, or if she could get away with just shoving the old one into the hiding place. She wasn't sure how they were going to explain what they were doing to Frank, either.

He was following her around with puppy-dog eyes in much the same way that she supposed she must have been following Neville around for a few months.

"We need to find Alice," she said firmly. "Do you know what she looks like?" she asked Ron.

"I did meet her once," he said. "At St Mungo's," he whispered.

Frank bristled and pushed Ron away from Hannah's ear. "I thought I was meant to be showing you round. You seem to know where you're going."

"Yes, we'll be fine," Hannah said.

"No, stay with us," Ron said at the same time.

Hannah glared at him.

"I think Frank ought to be introduced to Alice," Ron said pointedly.

Good point, actually. Hannah certainly didn't want Neville's parents to continue not to know each other; that would result in a world without Neville and that didn't bear contemplating. She nodded sharply. She was still cross with Ron, though, so she added, "I see you've forgotten about Hermione."

"Who's Hermione?" Frank asked.

"My girlfriend," Ron said proudly.

"Then why –?" Frank asked.

Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but it's not the same," Ron said hurriedly. "Oh look, here's the Hall and there's the spot." He pointed.

"Where?" Hannah asked.

"I'll do it." Ron held out his hand.

"Do what?" Frank asked.

"Should I write it out?" Hannah asked, ignoring Frank.

Ron thought for a moment. "Why bother?"

Well, Hermione was the one who understood Time Travel and she must have gone over everything with Ron before he came here (or now or whatever) so Hannah accepted that and handed him back his note.

"Who's going to find that?" Frank asked as Ron poked the rolled-up parchment deep into a tiny crack. "You'd have to blow the wall apart to find that."

Hannah didn't bother to answer him. Instead she looked over the other stragglers and loitering couples in the Hall. They didn't have much time in which to find Alice and hopefully therefore Neville, and to introduce his parents to each other. It must be nearly curfew time. A teacher or a Prefect would be along soon to send them all off to their beds. And where would she and Ron sleep? Well, she knew that Ron at least had an offer but she didn't intend to let him take that up.

"Is Alice here?" she asked him.

"Don't think so."

They tried looking down a few corridors and into the empty classrooms. She tried to interrogate Frank but he said that he knew all the Gryffindor girls in his year and the one below and none of them were called Alice and what did he care anyway when he had Hannah and he could think of much more interesting things they could be doing in empty classrooms especially if they sent Ron back to James or to his 'girlfriend' (he wasn't bothered which).

It was tricky to sneak into the hospital wing, but Ron managed it. Hannah got the feeling that it was the sort of thing he'd done a lot of when he'd been at school. It was a wasted effort, though, because the beds were all empty.

"The library, then," Hannah said, setting off towards it.

"How do you know where the library is?" Frank asked.

Hannah exchanged a look with Ron.

"Lucky guess," Ron said. "Lead the way, Frank."

There was only one person in the library and somehow Hannah knew who the girl behind the pile of books was even before Ron said, "That's Alice." She had Neville's hair, but it wasn't particularly distinctive hair. It was the uncertain furrow between her eyebrows which Hannah recognised.

"Oh, yeah," Frank said without interest. "That's Alice Shepherd. Year above me."

"Is she a swot, then?" Ron asked. He sounded incredulous and it did seem unlikely that Neville's mother had been some kind of genius.

"From what I heard she's rubbish. She's a bit of a joke. Probably in here 'cos she's scared to death of failing all her N.E.W.T.s." Frank was still watching Hannah.

Hannah sighed. First things first. She strode up to Alice who was startled to find herself being approached.

"I don't understand these bloody Charts!" Alice said in a wavering, panicked voice.

"It's only February," Hannah soothed. "There's months until the exams. I'm sure you'll get there. Look, have you seen a boy? Has someone tried to talk to you?"

"Only you. In days. How am I going to be an Auror if I can't pass anything?"

Frank laughed cruelly from the doorway. They all turned to look at him. "An Auror?" he asked incredulously. "I mean, really? Her?"

"She's very brave," Ron said.

"Am I?" she asked.

"You will be. I mean, I think you will. I believe in you." Ron blushed. "Both of you," he added in a rush, like it didn't matter what he said anymore so he might as well say everything. "Try to keep away from Bellatrix Lestrange," he said after a pause.

Hannah though he probably shouldn't have said that. It was sad, though, to know what was going to happen to these two. And the people upstairs – James, Lily, Peter, Sirius and Lupin were all dead in their time. She looked at Ron and she could see that he was thinking similar things.

"Give up?" Ron asked her.

She sighed. "I suppose so. We've been all over the school and he doesn't seem to be here."

"Who doesn't?" Frank asked.

"Neville," Ron replied.

"That's an interesting name," said Alice. "I had an Uncle Neville. I always liked him."

"You don't get a lot of Nevilles these days," Frank agreed. "In fact I don't think I've ever met one. That name's probably due a revival."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Ron said. "Alice here has a lot of books to take up to Gryffindor Tower and I'm sure she could do with a hand."

"I'm rather good at iLevitating/i, actually," Alice said.

"I'd rather help Hannah with her books," Frank said.

A younger-looking Madam Pince bustled towards them and all four of them flinched. She'd always been the same then.

"What are you four doing in the library at this time?" she snapped. "It's past curfew. Get out of here. Are you entitled to take out that many books?" This last was directed at Alice.

"I... um... they're mostly my own," Alice stammered.

Ron, Hannah and Frank started to help Alice load the books into her bag.

Frank was distracted by a scroll of parchment on the table. "Cornish Pixies?" he asked. "Really? I thought you were a Seventh Year. We did them in Second Year."

"So did we," Alice huffed. "But they're tricky. It's all bloody tricky." She waved her wand over her bag and it floated upwards.

With Madam Pince glaring at them, they all scurried out of the library after the bag.

Once they were safely in the corridor, Hannah asked Frank, "Didn't you say you were good at Defence?"

"Top of the class. Does that turn you on?"

She didn't answer. Instead she said, "Maybe you could help Alice here."

"Why?" he asked sullenly.

"It's a long story," Ron said. "Trust us." He looked at Hannah. "Are we off then?"

"Are you sure you don't want to go up to the Common Room and see anyone first?"

Ron looked thoughtful, but he didn't have time to reply.

"What are you doing in the corridors after curfew?" Lily Evans was approaching looking small and deadly and rather beautiful with her Prefect badge shining.

"We're going to the Common Room now," Frank replied, grabbing Alice's bag and thrusting her in front of him.

"We have to see McGonagall," Ron said quickly. "Hannah and I do. About beds."

Lily looked sceptical. Frank and Alice kept going.

"Otherwise," Ron added meaningfully, "I might be looking to share with someone."

The two red-heads locked eyes. They stared at each other for a moment.

Then Ron said, slowly "I really don't think you want that, do you?"

"Why would I care?" Harry's mum asked him. She had that angry but confused expression on again.

"I don't know, but you clearly do," Hannah said. "Come on, Ron."

"You're going the wrong way!" Lily yelled behind them. "There's only Advanced Charms that way, I thought you wanted McGonagall's office."

"Do we need to leave from the place where we arrived?" Hannah asked Ron.

"Dunno," he replied. Hermione had probably told him, but he hadn't listened properly. "Might as well. We can put the Turners back as soon as we get there that way. We'll be back two minutes after we've left."

That sounded like maybe he had listened to at least some of what Hermione had told him.

"You're not going back up to James then?" Hannah asked him.

"I can't, can I? He's besotted with me and he has to end up with her. Poor bastard. Otherwise there'll be no Harry and quite apart from him being the only one who can defeat You Know Who, and the issue of Time Paradoxes and all that – he's me best mate and I need him."

"Then why mess about with his father in the first place?"

Ron made a non-committal squeaky noise and shrugged one shoulder. They ducked behind a tapestry and waited in silence for a few minutes while Filch passed by with a cat.

When they were on their way again Ron said, "That can't be Mrs Norris, can it? How long do cats live for?"

"Probably not," Hannah panted. "Nearly there."

"I'll need you to change my robes," Ron said. "Need to get these things right."

"When we get in the cupboard."

"It's just nice to be fancied, isn't it?" Ron said eventually, just as they started up the narrow staircase behind Advanced Charms. "Nice to feel sexy. Hermione doesn't think I'm sexy."

"Yes she does!" Hannah replied, astonished. "A blind man can see that. She's been chasing you since Third Year."

Ron looked blankly at her. His mouth started to form a "... but..."

Hannah spoke over him. "Have you forgotten what she was like over Lavender? And the way she looks at you – like she's trying to burn your clothes off with her eyes?"

"She's never said! How was I supposed to know?"

"She's shy. She's never had a boyfriend. Go easy on her for Merlin's sake! Have you even been alone with her? You know, since she became your girlfriend?"

"No, not for months. But James didn't mind, did he? He was perfectly comfortable making out in public. Why's Hermione so bothered about other people seeing?"

"Because you matter to her. He was just trying to cop off with you. She cares about you."

Ron thought for a moment. "Yeah, ok. I get it. Ok." He thought again.

They had stopped in front of the closed cupboard door behind which the Time Turners waited. Hannah wondered whether they needed to actually go in there or whether they should just travel back to the present from here.

"It's sad, isn't it?" Ron said. "All these people here. Knowing what's going to happen to them."

Hannah nodded.

"It took ages for Harry to get over Sirius' death."

"Did it? You were going to tell me how you knew him."

"He was a bit of alright when he was this age, wasn't he?"

"You're not answering my question."

"Another time. He did get over it, though. I mean he's still sad when he remembers, but he's not thinking about it all the time. It's unimaginable now, but one day we'll feel like that about the people who died today. I mean on the day we're going back to."

"Yeah. Remus Lupin, when we knew him, he was sort of sad and faded, but he'd got through. Seeing him up in the Common Room with all his friends, you wouldn't think he could survive losing all of them, but he did." Hannah looked at Ron. "You're thinking about Fred?"

Ron nodded sharply and swallowed. "Let's go," he said. He opened the cupboard door.


	7. Chapter 7

**I am not JK Rowling. These characters and settings all belong to her.**

7. The Present

"Did you – did I – enhance the scent of the Kelpie-Roses?" Neville asked.

The man who looked far too confident and at ease to be him laughed. "I can't tell you everything – I mean tell me everything." He placed Neville's fingers back on the Time Turner.

"You know what to do now?" he checked.

"Of course I do." Neville grinned. "I'm not stupid." He sent the Turner into its spin.

He sat for a few a minutes in the near-dark in the Time Turner cupboard. Then he stood up and took the Turner chain off his neck. He caught a whiff of himself. He really did need a bath.

He looked at the stairs beyond the cupboard. Hannah Abbott, eh? Now was he supposed to go and find her or was she going to find him? It would have been useful to have had a bit more direction from his future self. He took a deep breath. He was just going to have to go out there, clean himself up, and then –

He was knocked backwards into the shelves as something suddenly appeared in the same place where he'd been standing. He picked himself up.

"Oh, sorry," the thing said.

Neville rubbed his head. Was he concussed or was the thing which had just sent him flying none other than the self-same Hannah Abbott who was meant to make his life so wonderful? His shoulders, back and arse hurt like hell; this was not a good start.

"There you are!" she said then, a little resentfully.

"I think I am," he replied.

"We'd better get out of here before Ron bashes into both of us."

"Ron?"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the staircase. "We were looking for you," she said.

"Where?" Neville asked.

Either he really had banged his head pretty hard or she replied "1978."

He looked at her. He looked at her hard. She was certainly pretty, but then most girls were. Most girls were beyond his reach. Luna had always been nice to him. Hannah had never been not nice. Maybe if he kissed her he'd understand what was special about her.

"Can I kiss you?" Neville asked. He flinched and waited for a slap, or at least a shocked rejection. He was still pretty sure that his future self had got it all wrong.

"Please do," Hannah said to his surprise, only then she didn't wait for him to do it, she kissed him herself.

Neville forgot about everything else except Hannah's mouth. It was warm and soft. Their tongues tangled. Time stopped. He could have kept on kissing her forever if they hadn't been disturbed by a thud in the cupboard. Blearily they broke apart and looked over.

Ron pulled the Time Turner from his neck and winked at Neville. "Quick work, Hannah," he said.

"You can talk," she muttered.

"Ignore me, I'm off to the Great Hall to wave at myself and then go and see my grieving mother."

"How can you wave at yourself? I thought we arrived two minutes after we'd left?" Hannah asked.

Ron replied, "It's all rather complicated. Hermione explained it all and I even remembered some of it. As you were." He waved a hand. "Although, frankly, Neville could use a bath. I wouldn't get that close to him."

"I thought you had somewhere to be, Weasley," Hannah grumbled.

Neville didn't notice Ron leaving, because Hannah was kissing him again and that was all there was for a long time.

THE END


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